


An Announcement

by loverloverlover



Series: the broken wireless [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Marriage, Pregnancy, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:07:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26350891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loverloverlover/pseuds/loverloverlover
Summary: bill and fleur are having a quiet night at shell cottage, and fleur decides it’s the perfect moment to tell her husband something. [tw for mentions of scars]
Relationships: Fleur Delacour/Bill Weasley
Series: the broken wireless [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1969276
Comments: 4
Kudos: 27





	An Announcement

**Author's Note:**

> this is written for the international wizarding school championship forum over on ffn!
> 
> Beauxbatons – happily ever after: “every tale must end, but the story carries on long after the book closes.” (flowering relationships, victory, peace, positive recovery.)
> 
> 5\. [plot point] a secret being revealed
> 
> 14\. [object] a broken stereo

It was a quiet sort of evening at Shell Cottage—a type of evening where Fleur Delacour would sit in the window seat to listen to the waves crashing against the cliff below, a type where the delicate tinkle of the seashell windchimes would lull her to sleep, a type where her husband, Bill Weasley, would actually settle into his armchair by the hearth, his shoulders losing their seemingly ever present tension. It was twilight, and the sun was just a distant glow on the far horizon—Fleur having contentedly watched the sky change from blue to pink and orange, to red and purple, following its entire descent from the heavens.

Fleur never thought that she would have these simple moments in her life again—despite the hope she’d had that they _would_ prevail in the war against Voldemort, she’d always carried around a crushing feeling that the opposite would somehow become true. Yet here she was, watching her husband—who was indeed reading in his leather armchair by the softly crackling fire—and admiring the way the firelight danced over the now-healed white and pink scars on his handsome face. And he _was_ still handsome, despite what the _Daily Prophet_ and the invasive war biographers had to say on the topic. Fleur didn’t think that those scars subtracted from his beauty at all. Not only did they show how resilient and strong and brave he was—just as she had voiced to her mother-in-law all those years ago in the Hogwarts hospital wing when they’d still been angry, harsh red lines—but they also added a ruggedness to him that reflected his intense, yet still loving, personality rather well.

The aspect of his scars that she believed she would always linger on, that the public would always exalt, is what they represented: survival. The two of them had come so close to never possessing these calm days as husband and wife—so close to never having known what it felt like to walk the length of the beach without their wands, to never having known what it felt like to hold each other close without the fear of it being the last time they did so, to never having known what it felt like to know they were going to bring a child into the world.

That last point, however, was what she had yet to share with her husband. Fleur had been sitting on this secret for a little under a week now—though that wasn’t the right word, _revelation_ was likely the better choice, as she wasn’t intentionally keeping it from her husband. She was just waiting for the perfect moment to tell him. But as she gazed at his face, his eyes focused on the book in front of him, she reckoned that every moment since she’d cast the pregnancy detection spell had been perfect—even that little tiff about the grocery shopping had been a perfect moment because really, it was perfect that they were living in a world where their biggest fight in three weeks had been about whether or not to buy organic vegetables.

The only thing that would make everything more perfect would be to share all these moments with Bill when they _both_ knew they were expecting.

The song on the ancient and slightly staticky wireless that sat on their mantle came to a close, and a low tinkle of piano keys started up in a rhythm she immediately recognized as a French tune from her youth. They had even danced to it at their wedding. Bill, apparently also recognizing the song, looked up at her and smiled—his scars twisting and lines appearing by his eyes.

_She loved him so much._

“Will you dance with me?” he asked her as he closed his book and got to his feet. He took the two steps towards her and extended his calloused hand in invitation.

 _“Toujours, mon cœur,”_ Fleur replied as she placed her hand in his.

Instead of gently pulling her to her feet—something she felt the moment desired—he tugged her from the window seat quickly and she laughed freely as she stumbled up into his strong chest and comforting arms. He spun them thrice in a circle way faster than the music called for, but, of course, this made the moment even more perfect.

He was too tall for her to lean her cheek against his, but she melted into his body all the same and gratefully inhaled his calming and familiar scent. They weren’t truly dancing—really, her dance instructor from Beauxbatons would have been thoroughly appalled by their lack of form and decorum—but he was holding her close and she was more than content. Even when their wireless gave its last sputter of life and went out, the music stopping, they continued to hold each other close and sway to the music of the waves.

“Bill?” she asked into his body, her forehead resting just under his chin.

“Hmm?” he hummed, placing a kiss to her temple and breathing her in. She didn’t say it right away—not because she was worried about what he might say, she knew he’d be happy, but because this was the _moment_ where their lives truly changed for good, never to go back. It wasn’t a bad change—in any way of the word—but it was still a change. For better or worse, they were going to be parents. For better or worse, they were taking their biggest step yet in moving away from the past.

This happy moment, that had yet to truly blossom, would make them admit that they were recovering. That they were finally forging their new lives after all the horrible things that had happened—the multitude of friends’ funerals they had attended, the postponed Weasley family dinners because Molly couldn’t bear to look at Fred’s empty place at the table, the pale dressing gown Fleur had wrapped around Hermione’s shaking shoulders that the woman could no longer bring herself to wear _nor_ bear to throw away…

They weren’t over those moments and they weren’t moving on from the things that had caused them—Fleur believed the mental scars of the war would linger for her entire life—but this announcement would be the first true sign that they could let out their breaths and say, _“Yes, we’re healthy, and we’re alive. Yes, we’re still here, and we’re allowed to be happy.”_

For better or worse.

“I’m pregnant.”

Bill froze and pulled back to look at her. She couldn’t discern his feelings from looking into his eyes—he always was an excellent poker player—but his blue gaze calmed her racing heart anyway.

“You’re pregnant?”

She nodded in response. His hands, which had previously been clutching her around her waist, moved to cup her cheeks. Bill then grinned so wide he looked as though he would burst from it. The sheer joy on his face outshone anything else—so much so that one would never even notice his scars.

“You’re pregnant,” he repeated.

_“Oui.”_

Fleur smiled then, too, and Bill began peppering her face with kisses—first her cheeks, then her nose, then her closed eyes, then her cheeks again. She was laughing, her heart full with an emotion she couldn’t quite describe, and he was hugging her—pulling her close and laughing into her ear. He hoisted her up his body, the tips of her toes just barely brushing the floor, before kissing her soundly on the mouth. She was smiling into their kiss and she wrapped her arms around his neck to pull her husband closer. Next thing she knew, he was spinning them around again, her feet and unbound blonde hair flying out behind her as their combined laughter echoed off the walls of their home.

He was still smiling beatifically when he slowed and set her on her feet. After a quiet moment of simply looking at each other, he dropped to his knee and placed his hands on her still-flat stomach. She smiled down on him dotingly and gently carded her fingers through his soft red locks. He leaned his forehead against her stomach and whispered, “Hello there, little one. I can’t wait to meet you.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading, everyone! bill and fleur is sort of a comfort ship for me, and i loved writing this little moment for them. i truly don’t think that these two have enough content, nor do they get the attention they deserve. let me know what you all thought of this! :))


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